The Ruthless Seven
by MasterMind2553
Summary: AU. Idea from NatsuHaremFan. Seven extremely powerful dark wizards sanctioned by the Magic Council in exchange for providing their services in times of dire need. Each has the freedom to do what they wish, as long as no innocents are harmed. They are the "Seven Warlocks of Ishgar", and Natsu Dragneel is the strongest of them. VeryPowerful!Older!Natsu x Collective (Harem)
1. Prologue: The Black Salamander

**_Hello, everyone!_**

 ** _Here I come with a new idea, inspired by NatsuHaremFan! His idea is on his profile under the name of "Seven Warlocks of Ishgar", which was inspired by the Shichibukai from One Piece. I grew immensely interested when I saw that and here you go! A brand new Dark Natsu story. _**

**_Right off the bat, the pairing for this story will be a Natsu x Collective (Harem) starring Ur Milkovich and Ikaruga Shingetsu (yes, I gave her a last name, as well as Cobra, who will be named Erik Venerus). I already know who the other lucky ladies are, but I will not reveal them until later. This Natsu is older, at 28 (or 428, whatever floats your boat). Any other info will be revealed as the story progresses._**

 ** _Shoutout to NatsuHaremFan!_**

 ** _Anyways, onto the story!_**

 ** _Please read and review! (Flames will be fed to Natsu, who I FINALLY wrote as a Fire Dragon Slayer)_**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail, its rights or any of its characters, spells, locations, etc. These belong to the one and only Hiro Mashima. I only own my OCs, my spells, etc. Any resemblance to anything or anyone, either living or dead, is purely coincidental. Also, this work is purely meant for non-profit entertainment.**

Hello " "= **Dialogue**

 **Requip " "= Spells, Magical Item Names and Non-Human Speech  
**

 _What? ' ' =_ **Thoughts**

 _ **Oh dear... '**_ **'** **= Non-human Thoughts**

* * *

 ** _The Ruthless Seven_**

 **Chapter 1: Prologue: The Black Salamander**

He stood upon a cliff, overlooking the plain horizon in which his newest assignment lay (in other words, his pure whim). His sharp, slit onyx eyes were contemplative, yet focused. His right hand was pocketed in his black pants, a color matched by his tight black shirt and his boots. His long, red overcoat with golden flame designs at its extremities fluttered with the wind, something that his rather spiky pink hair emulated. Yet, the hair had more freedom, for the coat was hindered by an immense, pitch-black sword.

It was a single-edged sword with a slight curve at the end, at least a full head taller than him (he stood at six feet and two inches). The abnormally large hilt was shaped like a cross-guard, bearing an eye-popping collection of precious gems that symmetrically ornamented it.

Overall, it looked like he had an oversized black cross strapped to his back, prompting some to wonder whether he was religious or not. Others would wonder how he could carry a seemingly very heavy blade without an ounce of effort, and those who saw him fight (and lived to tell the tale) wondered how he could swing it so quickly that it just resembled a black blur.

Many compared him to an angel of death, delivering his judgment with his mighty black blade. Others called him a demon of destruction, for everywhere he went, destruction would ensue. Ironically, both of these were the product of dark guilds and their members, whom he took a subtle pleasure in hunting.

He was feared by all who knew him, whether they were dark mages or light mages (those that were affiliated with the Magic Council).

His name was Natsu Dragneel, better known throughout the land as the "Black Salamander". No one knew where he came from. All they knew was that he was there to stay.

The pink-haired swordsman opened his mouth and released a soft sigh. He could smell the fire, the smoke, the ash… the _blood_.

There was an attack nearby, and the obvious perpetrators were dark mages. He could _smell_ them, _feel_ their magic tremble with maliciousness. If he were someone else, he would be disgusted, but he wasn't fazed at all.

After all, _his_ magic felt _so much worse_ …

He smirked slightly, a rarity for Natsu. He preferred stoicism, for he liked to keep his emotions hidden. He only showed semblances of emotion to his closest companions (not that he had many).

He crouched slightly, tensing his muscles in preparation for his jump down towards the direction of the attack. Even in the darkness of night, his vision was nigh perfect, so he knew exactly where the attack was, even without the assistance of the raging flames.

Without so much as a warning, he disappeared in a flash of red-orange.

…

Chaos ruled Hakumai Village.

Villagers ran amok, screaming bloody murder. Raging fires consumed every single combustible material that was available to them. Blood puddled in many sections of the small village, both of local and outsider origin.

Men dressed in black rushed through, aimlessly raining fire on the villagers' homes, not caring if they hit woman, man, or child. Collateral damage was at the very back of their minds, accompanied by possible loss of life.

All they cared about was the loot.

Rumors circulated that Hakumai Village produced a special kind of elixir that would treat all physical wounds, and refill magical containers back to full capacity in less than an hour. It was called the **Spiritual Mastermind Potion** , a concoction so rare and powerful it fetched incredible prices in the market.

The villagers called it a miracle that they were not attacked before for their treasure, but now it was moot. They were being attacked, and by a very organized group of dark wizards.

The first thing they did was cut off all of their escape routes. Then, Hell descended upon them, in the form of multiple fireballs that razed houses, gardens… _people_. Men, women, and children, they burned them all down. They were unscrupulous.

They were Black Plague, a guild full of powerful dark wizards that would raid villages in the outskirts of civilization, where the Magic Council had little influence in the state of affairs. Attacks by this guild were random, sudden, and lethal.

Martos, mayor of Hakumai Village, could only look around in horror as he watched his precious citizens die in a blazing inferno. Any defenses he could come up with were mercilessly beaten down. The men that fought were instantly burned down, and the women could only hold onto their children, praying to whatever deities, begging to be spared. For some, it was granted temporarily.

 _Others weren't so lucky…_

"So, Mayor, are you going to tell me where you have your little treasure hidden? At least the recipe?" asked a mocking, derisive voice in front of him.

Martos was a middle-aged man of average height and build, with short graying hair and a small beard. He wore a white button-up shirt with black pants and black shoes.

The man opposite him, though, was almost the complete opposite. He was tall, standing at least a head over him, and _very_ well-built, much like a bodybuilder. He was young, with jet-black hair and a small goatee. He was draped in all black, much like his subordinates.

He was the master of Black Plague, Markus Masseltoth, the "Shadow of Hades".

"Never! I will never tell you _worthless scum_ where our treasure is, or the recipe!" shouted Martos, glaring heatedly at the younger man. Oh, the fear was present within him, but he pushed it down. If it was their destiny to die to _these_ monsters, then they would take the secret of their potion with them.

Markus bristled, his annoyance clearly manifesting in his expression. Oh, how he hated defiant ones, especially when they were weaklings like the old man in front of him. He wished to purge the world of them, to show them that in this world, only the strong survived. But alas, he could not do that alone.

"Wrong answer," he growled, forgetting about the formula in his blind anger. He quickly summoned a fireball and launched it at the old man.

His eyes wide at his incoming doom, Martos opened his mouth, and spoke, " _Forgive me, everyone…"_

His eyes shut slowly, his acceptance clear. He was going to die, along with the rest of his village, but Black Plague would not have the formula. For that, he could die in peace.

His death never came, though…

Martos opened his eyes, expecting to see either heaven or hell, but he found himself a rather odd sight. The fireball that was supposed to kill him was right in front of him, less than two meters away, but it was frozen in midair. Hell, all of the fires that were eating up his village were frozen as well, almost as if time itself had stopped.

But, that could not be, for everyone and everything in the village could move.

Only the _flames_ were still, and in the darkness of the night, shone blindingly like a beacon. The overwhelming heat was still there, making everyone sweat buckets.

The screaming of the women stopped, the crying of the children ceased, and the roars of the men tapered off. Everyone was staring at the frozen inferno, wondering just _what_ happened for it to be that way.

The only one who wasn't still in wonder was Markus. He was still, yes, but for a totally different reason. His eyes were wide in shock, his hands were clammy with sweat not caused by the fires, and his legs were shaking slightly. For a man priding himself on his magical prowess and incredible physical strength, it was a pathetic sight to behold.

Markus Masseltoth was frozen in fear, for he knew _who_ had stopped the flames like that. He knew of only _one_ person capable of such a thing.

 _The Black Salamander was in Hakumai Village…_

Suddenly, the fires regained their infernal livelihood, crackling and sizzling away, but they were being bent towards one direction, almost as if the wind was fanning them. But, there was no wind. The air was as still as death, for it had stopped moving a couple of minutes ago.

In fact, the still air seemed to be getting heavier, and hotter, causing shortness of breath to everyone. It would only be a matter of time before they suffered a heatstroke.

The flames shrunk exponentially, disappearing in mere seconds. All the effort put into the spells by Markus' subordinates was gone, as if it were nothing but a campfire.

 _'_ _Damn it, why is_ he _here? WHY?! I thought he was in Fiore!'_ thought Markus, his legs shaking even more. It felt as if his strength was about to up and leave him to his sad, _infernal_ fate.

An eerie silence reigned over the darkened village. There was no movement whatsoever, for everyone was just too _afraid_ to do so.

Then, footsteps came. Slow and deliberate, they echoed out into the night, piercing the silence rhythmically. The closer they came, the hotter it got. Some of the villagers and members of Black Plague descended into unconsciousness, foam coming out of their mouths.

"Far from the best, but I've had worse," spoke a smooth, tenor voice. Martos and Markus turned in the direction of the voice, their eyes falling on a tall, human silhouette with a fiery red aura surrounding it. Fear gripped them even further, feeling unconsciousness overtake them ever so slightly.

They fell on their knees, unable to take the pressure.

The silhouette stopped a few meters away from them, the aura growing ever brighter. They could finally make out a face, and the expression it held sealed a single thought into their brains.

 _'_ _We're fucked…'_

The Black Salamander's face was as stoic as one could be, his sharp, slit onyx eyes locked onto his latest prey at the center of the unconscious bodies. His orbs seemed to gleam slightly, sending shivers down their spines.

He spoke no more, apparently relishing in the fear his silence caused. His magical aura was massive, oppressive, and malicious, though at the same time it felt… _restrained_.

He gave no warning, no sign, no semblance of movement dictating his next course of action.

He lifted his fingers and snapped them, prompting the temperature in the village to spike drastically. The inferno was back, worse than before, without any flames to accompany it.

It was quick, invisible, and deadly.

Horrid screams of pain rung out in the village, though they all sounded male. Both conscious men turned around, their eyes widening in horror when they saw all the members of Black Plague spontaneously combust. Slowly, but surely, they began to melt into puddles of liquefied flesh, blood, and bone.

Martos could hear their pain, their horror, and their pleads for mercy. He shut his eyes, unable to stomach the nauseating scene before him.

The screaming ceased after what he felt like an eternity, and his fingers snapped once again. The temperature plunged into the depths of normalcy, and the oppressive magical pressure lifted. They took a long, painfully needed breath of air, relishing in the fresh bursts of oxygen that traversed their lungs and body.

Without giving the Black Salamander a second glance, Martos rushed over his fellow citizens, almost crying in relief when he found them alive and unmolten, only in varying states of unconsciousness.

He turned to give their savior his heartfelt gratitude, but he was shocked to see he was no longer in the place he was before. Now, he was standing before Markus, the terrifyingly stoic look still plastered on his face.

Markus cowered before the man, unable to utter even one coherent word. He was shaking and sweating more than before, and it was visible in his face.

It seemed like the oddly pink-haired man was going to stare Markus to death, when suddenly his right hand snapped up, pointing his open palm at the Black Plague's master.

"You're not worth soiling my blade," he spoke softly, before unleashing a fireball easily thrice as large as the one Markus threw at him.

Barely a scream of shock he released when Markus exploded in a shower of blood. Somehow, none of it landed on the pink-haired man.

Martos was beyond horrified at the incredible _ease_ this man had in killing human beings. True, they may be of the undesirable sort, but killing was killing. There was no way to justify such an atrocity.

He almost jumped when the man suddenly whirled towards him and began taking purposeful steps. The fear within magnified tenfold when the man stopped less than a meter away from him, feeling the smoldering heat his body seemed to naturally produce. He looked down on him.

Only one thought raced through Martos' head, further empowered by the sheer helplessness he felt before the taller man. He closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.

 _'_ _Forgive me everyone, I have failed in protecting you…'_

A light shone, and he scrunched his face, expecting searing pain. But, nothing happened.

He opened his eyes just enough to see the man holding a bag of what seemed to be money. His eyes shot open, confused by the man's actions.

Was he not going to kill him? Why would he summon money?

"Here," the Black Salamander spoke, releasing the bag. Martos instinctively reached out and caught it. "I want all of the **Spiritual Mastermind Potions** you have. Considering the price it has in the market, this amount of money should be more than enough to buy an entire barrel's worth.

"I do not want your formula; I just want the product. Bring me this in 10 minutes, and continue brewing this exclusively for me. Am I clear?"

Martos did not speak. How could he? He just experienced this man singlehandedly destroying all of Black Plague for trying to steal something _he_ wanted to buy.

He only nodded, and quickly rushed back into his home. Less than five minutes afterwards, he came out, dragging a large chest full of vials of **Spiritual Mastermind Potion**. He had difficulty in completing his task, for the chest was about half as big as him, and a lot heavier.

The Black Salamander appeared right behind him in a burst of flames, beckoning him to move away. He then placed his hand on the chest, causing it to disappear in a flash of golden light.

"I appreciate your business, Martos," spoke the pink-haired man. How he knew his name, Martos did not know, and he would not dare ask.

He barely had any opportunity to speak, for the Black Salamander had turned around and began walking away, disappearing into the night just as abruptly as he came in.

After some time, he looked around his nigh destroyed village, silently thanking Lady Fate for intervening in such an unorthodox way.

 _'_ _Never thought I would thank a_ dark _wizard for saving me… but I do thank you… Black Salamander…'_

…

* * *

 _ **That does it!**_

 _ **Yes, it is a little short, but it's a prologue. They are meant to be short and enticing.**_

 _ **This story will be worked on simultaneously with Natsu Draggio: Dragon of Lightning, which is my upcoming update. After that... Yeah, I dunno.**_

 _ **Anyways, thank you for reading!**_

 _ **Please! Review, review, review!**_

 _ **Until next time! Ciao!**_


	2. The Triumvirate

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail, its rights or any of its characters, spells, locations, etc. These belong to the one and only Hiro Mashima. I only own my OCs, my spells, etc. Any resemblance to anything or anyone, either living or dead, is purely coincidental. Also, this work is purely meant for non-profit entertainment.**

Hello " "= **Dialogue**

 **Requip " "= Spells, Magical Item Names and Non-Human Speech  
**

 _What? ' ' =_ **Thoughts**

 _ **Oh dear... '**_ **'** **= Non-human Thoughts**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: The Triumvirate**

Sunlight filtered through his curtained windows. Subtle, yet obvious shuffling of clothes could be heard.

Slit, onyx eyes snapped open and locked on to the reason of his waking. A powerful looking messy blue-haired man stood before him, a mischievous expression on his face. He was slightly taller than Natsu, and a tad burlier as well.

He was dressed very much like a butler, with a black suit, black pants, black shoes, and a white button-up shirt underneath. Hell, he even had a monocle on his right eye, even though he didn't need one.

The awakened Natsu Dragneel wondered just what was happening for his companion to rouse him in such a manner.

"Why have you woken me, Happy?" asked he, sitting up from his comfortable chair. He idly noticed his upper body was naked, showcasing his lean, very fit, and powerful musculature. There were traces of crimson scales covering parts of his body, particularly his waist and forearms.

The now named Happy kept his expression, enhancing it further with a shit-eating grin.

"You have a letter from the Magic Council, Natsu," he said, pulling out an envelope from his suit's right breast. It had intricate designs, with the emblem of the Magic Council emblazoned on the front.

Natsu groaned, taking the envelope. "What do they want now?"

Happy laughed heartily. "They want you, of course. Why else would they hunt for me during my shopping and give me this?"

"I guess you have a point. Thank you, Happy."

"Aye, no problem, Natsu. What are partners for?"

Natsu nodded, giving the blue-haired man a small smile.

"Okay. I'll leave you. I have some stuff to care for in the basement."

The pink-haired swordsman nodded once again, the gesture serving both as acknowledgement and dismissal. With that, Happy disappeared through the double doors of his room.

Natsu sighed softly, and stood up. He dressed in his usual outfit, taking special care with the necklace he had on his neck. He turned to his sword, which was leaning on the seat, and admired it.

Memories of his past with the magnificent sword began to flow, though he quickly cut it when he remembered the letter. He tore open the envelope and unfolded its contents.

It read:

 ** _Warlock Dragneel,_**

 _Your presence is required in the Magic Council Headquarters in Era. We have received intel on your latest excursion, and we want to discuss this in more detail. We will use this meeting to impart of a mission we have for you._

 _The date set for this meeting is August 2_ _nd_ _, X784._

 _Remember, you are sanctioned by the Magic Council, even with your current denomination as a dark wizard. Failure to present yourself will result in the immediate termination of your benefits and your bounty will be reactivated._

 _Best Regards,_

 ** _Gran Doma_**

 ** _Chairman of the Magic Council_**

Natsu sighed again. As much as he hated to admit it, Gran Doma was powerful, very much so. He, along with Org (the 2nd Seat), and Belno (the 3rd Seat), could easily be a match for any of the Seven or the top four Wizard Saints, perhaps even overpower them. Crossing them was not in Natsu's immediate plans, for they would not face him one-on-one.

No… they would come at him with the entire might they possess, intending on crushing him. While he was powerful enough to fight against one of them evenly, perhaps even defeat them, he would not be able to take on all three simultaneously.

And _that_ was _exactly_ what they would do. They would not fight him fairly. They would do whatever they could to stamp him out permanently, and send a message to the others.

He crumpled the letter, setting it on fire with his hand. He grabbed his precious sword and swung it lackadaisically, enjoying the slashing sound it produced, as well as the tiny amount of air pressure released with each strike.

He went to sheathe the sword, letting it slide onto the straps on the back of his coat. He ensured he had everything necessary with him, even doing a mental inspection of his pocket dimension.

He opened his eyes, satisfied. He was ready for the trip to Era and to wherever his whims took him to next.

He turned to face his balcony behind the chair, securely locked and protected by advanced **Sealing Magic**.

He exited, enjoying the smell of the forest for a brief moment before disappearing in a flash of flames.

…

It was about an hour later that Natsu appeared at the peak of the mountain at the center of Era. The Magic Council Headquarters stood on top of the flat surface, looking down on the fairly symmetrical town.

It was perhaps the only thing he liked about Era. The view of the town and the horizon beyond was spectacular. Had he not been on business, he would stay and gaze at the view, if only for a few moments.

He walked past the tall, white gates, his eyes drinking in the view of the building he disliked (despite the impressive architecture). He took notice of members of the Council (and some non-humans) paling in shock and fear at his mere presence.

He ignored them as he walked into the building. He even ignored the clerk at the front who futilely called for him to show his identification.

There was no need for identification, he sometimes thought. The huge sword on his back and his spiky pink hair made him easily identifiable, something that Gran Doma surprisingly agreed on.

He walked on to the nearest courtroom, following his enhanced sense of smell and his magical sensing abilities. His heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor, muffled by the footsteps of those around him. The smell of fine woods mixed with parchment and the collective smells of everyone in the hallway filled the room.

Whispers would reach his auditory senses, alerting him that he was the hot topic of conversation. Some would speak of his power, others wanted him arrested, and a few wanted him dead.

They would not acknowledge his work, his services to the Magic Council by helping keep the activity of Dark Guilds on the low end of the spectrum. They would not acknowledge the fact that he helped prevent the destruction of a crucially important harbor for trade in X781 due to invasion by a foreign empire.

They would not acknowledge him as a _person_ … But, he did not care. Their comments had no effect on him, for he knew who he was, and _what_ he was.

He stopped in front of the double doors that led into his destination for a moment. For what purpose, he was unsure, but he quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of his head and walked in.

The courtroom was large, with a lone wide podium at the very center. To the sides of the podium were rows of benches, each higher than the last, higher than the podium. In front of the podium were the highest benches, nine to be exact, that seated the members of the Magic Council. Behind the seats was a white hanging banner bearing the symbol of the Magic Council, a blue ankh.

At the very center was the highest bench, that seated the Chairman, accompanied by the slightly lower benches on both sides that seated the 2nd and 3rd Seats.

He noticed that only those three seats were filled. He easily recognized the people that were impassively looking down on him.

They were the Triumvirate: three of the most powerful wizards in all of Ishgar, and a major part of the reason why having such a group as the "Warlocks" was successful in the first place.

"Greetings, Warlock Dragneel," spoke a grave, yet powerful voice. He recognized it as Grand Doma's. He looked up at the old man.

Even though he was seated, he could tell the elder man was taller than him. He had graying, shoulder length hair, black eyes with two scars running diagonally down them in opposite directions, and a long, graying beard that was partially hidden by the bench, and the angle Natsu was looking at him. Even his mustache was ridiculously overgrown, and almost covered the entirety of his mouth.

His entire outfit could not be seen, but the fitted black armor and the ornate navy-blue cape was visible, and combined with the black wizard hat he wore, he looked like a stereotypical wizard.

To the right of Gran Doma was the 2nd Seat, Org. He looked very similar to the Chairman, with the long graying hair, mustache, beard, and black eyes (though his right one was closed). The only differences were the lack of scars lining his eyes, and the length and texture of his hair, the former being shorter and the latter being straighter.

The ornate cape he wore was different as well, the predominant color being white and the lining being a navy-blue. He also wore robes instead of armor, though Natsu was pretty sure there was at least one layer of mail underneath.

Then, to the left of the Chairman, sat Belno, the 3rd Seat. For a woman 50 years of age, many would still consider her very attractive. She was of above-average height (when it came to women in Ishgar), with a fit and curvy body that belied her age.

She had sandy blonde hair held in a spiky ponytail, two bangs falling below her chin. Her sharp black eyes and tight lips gave her the appearance of a stern witch, which was enhanced by her long nose.

She wore a purple turtle-neck sweater under a predominantly black cape with white lining.

"Chairman," spoke Natsu, giving a small nod. The others stayed silent, opting to observe the swordsman.

"Bypassing all formalities, Warlock Dragneel, you know why you are here."

It was more of a statement than a question. Of course they all knew why they were cooped up in the room, discussing his activities of that night. It was such an idiotic statement, that sometimes Natsu wondered why such an inquiry was an unwritten protocol.

"A questioning of my methods when dealing with dark wizards… a mere formality."

"And what about the attack perpetuated upon the villagers of Hakumai Village?" inquired Org with a hint of aggression.

Natsu narrowed his eyes slightly. "I did no such thing."

"Explain," spoke Belno, leaning forward and clasping her hands in front of her face.

"All I did was render them unconscious with my aura. A favor, considering the way I eliminated Black Plague was… messy."

There was a tense silence between the four. Natsu alternated between them, his face as stoic as ever. The Triumvirate looked down on their bench, apparently analyzing something. He figured it was evidence gathered over the last few days.

"Very well. Just answer this question," said Gran Doma. "Why did you eliminate them in such a fashion?"

Natsu sighed softly.

"I believe leaving no evidence of their deaths would go over better with the villagers than leaving a multitude of bisected or charred carcasses.

"The position as a Warlock clearly allows me to do as I wish, as long as no innocents are harmed. I am seeing this in both a physical sense and a psychological sense. Why _shouldn't_ I eliminate them that way?"

There was silence once more, though it was less tense than the last one. The Triumvirate thoroughly mulled over the pink-haired swordsman's words, dissecting them and analyzing them from all possible angles. It only led them to one conclusion, though.

As much as they disliked it, his method was perhaps the most efficient one. It took care of the delinquents in one fell swoop, and left no evidence, except perhaps a stray puddle of blood that would blend in nigh perfectly with the blood already spilled from the villagers.

"Very well. We accept your explanation since you did comply with the directives given to you by us when granted the position," spoke Gran Doma, who bristled slightly at the indecipherable grumbling from Org. Natsu nodded.

"Now, Warlock Dragneel, regarding the assignment we have for you," began Belno, earning the swordsman's attention. "We have received intel that a member of the Ten Wizard Saints, Jose Porla, has been involved in illegal business dealings with Dark Guilds all over Fiore. These include drugs, assassinations, illegal magic, amongst others.

"The latest, our sources say, is a kidnapping job, given to him by Jude Heartfilia of Heartfilia Konzern regarding his daughter, Lucy Heartfilia, who recently joined Fairy Tail."

Natsu nodded, and gestured for her to continue.

"In violation of the directives given to each and every legal guild in the Ishgarian Peninsula by us, Jose Porla ordered his guild, Phantom Lord, to initiate war with the aforementioned guild.

"It would be detrimental for two Wizard Saints to fight each other so openly, so we want _you_ to travel to Fiore and apprehend Jose by any means necessary. However, should apprehension become impossible, you have our permission to eliminate him, as well as anyone that tries to interfere."

The addressee raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this rare direct order from them. It was only during times of dire duress that the Triumvirate deemed it necessary to give orders to the Warlocks themselves. For them to do such a thing now was… odd.

The _nature_ of the order made things worse. It was, fundamentally, an _assassination_ order for him, something that the Magic Council was strictly against (and made it clear in its directives towards legal guilds).

Just _what_ was going on?

"Should you complete this assignment, Warlock Dragneel, you will receive generous financial compensation, and an increase in your benefits as a Warlock."

Natsu stayed silent, contemplating the situation. Something was obviously happening, and it was _big_. If it weren't, the Triumvirate themselves wouldn't be assigning him a potential assassination job, with one of the _Wizard Saints_ being the target.

He would have to investigate through his… _sources_.

"Consider it done," he spoke without a hint of hesitation. "Is that all?"

"It is, Warlock Dragneel," spoke Gran Doma, standing up from his seat. "We bid you good day."

"Likewise," returned the pink-haired swordsman, turning on his heels and walking out the door.

When the doors closed fully behind the Warlock, Belno turned towards her authoritative superiors, "Should we have informed him of our suspicions?"

"I don't see why. They're just suspicions. We don't have concrete evidence yet," answered the Chairman, briefly looking at her before turning and walking down the steps. "Let him complete his assignment. Should more evidence arise, we shall alert _all_ of the Warlocks, not just him."

She nodded, standing up and following her colleagues. As she left, she couldn't help the thought that crossed her mind.

 _'_ _I hope they stay just that…_ suspicions _.'_

…

Natsu appeared once again in his home's balcony, noticing a slight disturbance in the arrangement of his room.

Happy had cleaned the room again, and left a small addition to it: a plain-white envelope, with neat writing on the front.

He recognized that writing instantly. On sheer instinct, he walked in and grabbed it, tearing the sealing open. He extricated a white card, with icy-blue thorny vines decorating the edges, accompanied by deep-purple roses on the corners. There was an intricate magic seal at the center of the card, colored in the same way as the vines.

It was a recorded message from a person he knew _all too well_ …

The seal glowed brightly, before manifesting a tiny, transparent woman that looked up at him with a loving expression.

The woman was beautiful, and _that_ was an _understatement_. While her height could not be discerned, her other features could be easily seen.

Through the blue glow, he could see her chin-length, unkempt deep-purple hair, her hauntingly piercing black eyes, her small nose and her tantalizing lips. Her body was buxom as they came, her voluptuousness so enviable women from all over would kill to have a modicum of.

She wore a black tabard-like top lined with icy-blue very similar to a leotard that exposed most of her back, her shoulders and her slender upper arms. She had long black sleeves covering the rest of her arms, with thin, form-fitting icy-blue gloves that covered all of her forearms. She completed her sensual outfit with transparent leggings and thigh-high black boots.

 _"_ _Natsu, my love!"_ greeted the small hologram, imperceptibly bouncing on her heels. _"A birdy told me that you were being a bad boy again! Shame on you, you naughty,_ naughty _boy! You were only supposed to be bad with me and Ika!"_

 _'_ _Damn, her spies work_ fast _,'_ Natsu thought, smiling slightly at the nigh childish enthusiasm the figure showcased.

 _"_ _Another birdy told me that you were going to Fiore to stop a guild war between Phantom Lord and Fairy Tail. Imagine my surprise! I_ so _wanted to go on that little adventure with you, but I've been busy over here, so I can only send you this card."_

At this she pouted slightly, biting her lower lip in a manner so seductive Natsu had to close his eyes so as to not fall to her wiles.

 _'_ _We seriously have to think of a better way to communicate other than these cards. They take too long to arrive.'_

 _"_ _I'm not gonna wish you luck, because you won't need it. I'm sure nobody in those guilds will stand a chance against you! But, can you do a favor for me please?"_

Natsu found himself nodding, even though the figure would not see him doing so.

 _"_ _Can you please make sure a foolish little pupil of mine is alright? You know of whom I speak of. I really wouldn't like it if he got hurt. Can you do this for me, my love? Thanks!"_

Natsu couldn't help but smile a tad wider. So vivacious she was that he could not think of someone livelier than her. Her personality enamored him.

Happy was a close second, he now thought, but he was his partner, his surrogate son. The affection he held for him would never be the same as hers.

 _"_ _Oh, Natsu, I'm aching for you. I wish I could drop everything I'm doing and go home to ravish you. This sexy MILF needs you so badly. My hands won't suffice! But I'll wait. Good things come to those who wait. I'm a good girl, I'll behave. And if I don't, I'll make sure you…_ punish _me properly._

 _"_ _I have to go, my love. This mission, as easy as it is, is long and tedious, and I have to return to it right now or I'll take forever. Have care, Natsu. I love you."_

 _'_ _And I you,'_ he answered mentally, his smile reaching its peak before it died off when the image flickered into nonexistence.

He performed the same thing he did in the morning, ensuring he had everything he needed in his pocket dimension before departure. After he completed that, he scribbled a quick note to Happy, informing him of his departure to Fiore.

He walked to his balcony, his stoic expression melting into a small smirk before he disappeared in a flash of flames.

 _'_ _Anything for you, Ur… my Frozen Empress…'_

…

It was a bright summer morning in Magnolia.

People were going about their daily activities, ensuring that the machine that was the town would work properly and would suffer no discrepancies.

The bells of Kardia Cathedral echoed into the morning, bringing a peaceful aura to the people while waking up those who overslept.

It was a _happy_ morning…

Unfortunately, not _everyone_ shared that positive sentiment.

For the members of Magnolia's celebrated guild, Fairy Tail, it was the complete opposite of a happy morning.

They were sad, angry, stressed, on the edge of despair. Any negative emotion related to those four, they felt.

They were at war with Phantom Lord, and they were losing. It started without provocation, with one of their members, Gajeel "Black Steel" Redfox, attacking their guild hall in the middle of the night.

With no response to those taunts, the **Iron Dragon Slayer** returned with a vengeance a few days later, attacking and incapacitating three of their precious members, Team Shadow Gear.

That was the last straw. Their Master, Makarov Dreyar, one of the Ten Wizard Saints, flew into a rage and declared war on the offending guild, something that the rest readily agreed on.

 _It was perhaps the worst course of action they could have taken._

At first, the raid into one of the main branches of Phantom Lord in Oak Town seemed to be a resounding success, until Gajeel joined, evening the odds by taking out some of their members.

 _It was only a preamble to what happened next._

Their Master climbed up to the Guild Master's office alone, his powerfully flaring magic reducing a considerable portion of the building into rubble, set on having some… _words_ with the master of Phantom Lord.

 _It was all a dirty trick, though._

Jose Porla was not there. Only a **Thought Projection** of him awaited the elder master, and he had the _gall_ to ambush him from _behind_!

Drained of all his magical energy, the sickly green master was thrown through the floors of the building, crashing unceremoniously in the middle of the battlefield. His defeated visage served to destroy Fairy Tail's morale, forcing them to retreat and accept a humiliating defeat.

And now, here they were, wallowing in the marshes of despair, trying to think of ways to turn around the tide of the conflict while dealing with the injuries suffered.

"Gray, I can't thank you enough for rescuing me from there," spoke Lucy Heartfilia, the newest member to join the family.

She was a beautiful, 17-year-old blond with large brown eyes, succulent lips and a voluptuous body that seemed to be the norm for the ladies in Fairy Tail.

Her outfit was downright seductive, with her wearing a white spaghetti-strap blouse that showed copious amounts of her cleavage, a pleated blue miniskirt that barely hid her supple posterior and brown heeled sandals. She had a brown belt strapped sideways on her skirt, with two attachments to it: one held a coiled brown whip with a heart shape at the end, while the other held a small pouch with all of her **Celestial Spirit Keys**. Her pink Fairy Tail insignia was on her right hand

"Don't worry about it, Luce," responded her addressee, Gray Fullbuster. "You're part of the family."

He was a young man, of age 18, with spiky black hair with a navy-blue hue, dark eyes, and a lean, fit body. He was currently shirtless, showcasing his torso to the world, as well as a silver chain that had a sword for a decoration. He completed his outfit with dark pants and black shoes. His black Fairy Tail insignia was on his chest.

Due to his training in **Ice-Make Magic** , he had a habit of taking off his clothes at the most inopportune times.

"Gray, your clothes," spoke a redhead sitting in the same table as them, casually pointing at the other teen's nigh complete nudity (he only had his boxers on). She had her eyes closed, her mouth sucking on a fork that had strawberry cheesecake.

The redhead was Erza Scarlet, S-Class Mage of Fairy Tail. She, like almost all women in the guild, was extremely beautiful, with a buxom body toned by years of training. Her hair cascaded down to her back, her eyes were an alluring chocolate-brown, and her lips were supple.

However, she kept her body hidden in a suit of silver armor bearing two golden stripes and the Fairy Tail insignia on her left breast, attire she accompanied by two forearm-covering silver gauntlets, a blue pleated skirt and ankle-length brown boots. Her blue Fairy Tail insignia was on her left arm.

She specialized in **Requip** , allowing her to quickly summon different armors and swords from her pocket dimension to help her adapt her fighting style. She was considered one of the strongest women in Fairy Tail due to that.

"Gah! How the hell?! Where'd they go?!" screamed Gray, shooting up from the table and searching for his clothes. Both of the women sitting across him looked particularly unfazed by his antics, as if they've seen him doing it far too many times (which was the truth).

"Tch, you at it again, Gray? Do you need me to beat some manners into you _again_?" asked a white-haired girl as she approached the table carrying a tray of drinks.

She was Mirajane Strauss, S-Class Mage of Fairy Tail, and one of the strongest women of the guild.

Being the poster-girl of Fairy Tail, her remarkable beauty was known nationally thanks to Sorcerer Weekly magazine publishing photo shoots with her once every month.

A habit of hers ever since she joined the guild, she wore a deep-purple gothic dress layered with black decorative fabric that hugged her body enticingly, black gothic leggings with black stilettos. She completed the outfit with a black choker around her slender neck. Her white Fairy Tail stamp was on her left thigh.

She was smiling warmly at the group, though her eyes told an entirely different story. They were narrowed, glaring at the frozen Gray.

"NO! It's all good!" he squealed, sitting down and shaking his head effusively. Somehow, his clothes had returned to him. He even had a shirt on.

"That's a good boy," purred Mirajane, her eyes still dangerously narrowed. All he did was meekly nod.

" _Miiira,_ stop being like that!" whined a voice from behind her. _That_ was Mirajane's little sister, Lisanna. "Leave Gray alone!"

Bearing the same hair color (but shorter length) and the same shade of blue eyes, as well as similar body structure (Mirajane was a tad more buxom), Lisanna was often compared to Mirajane in terms of beauty. Many wondered whether she would have a photo shoot later on. However, Mirajane was staunchly opposed to that, for some odd reason.

She wore a simple pink dress that she accompanied with dark red shoes. Her white Fairy Tail stamp was on her left arm.

"Why should I, Lisanna? He should learn to keep his stripping habits out of public view!" Mirajane retorted, trying to glare at her sister, but failing due to the cute, pleading expression she held.

They did not notice it, but their antics helped lift up the spirits of the rest of the guild, if ever so slightly. Even though they were losing, they still managed to show that their bonds held strong, that no matter what happened, they would always be there for each other.

 _The atmosphere, though, would not last…_

Suddenly, the ground began shaking.

At first, they attributed it to the rare tremors that occurred in Magnolia, but that theory was shot down when the shaking was rhythmic, almost like a giant taking steps.

Everyone was silent. They were looking towards the entrance of the guild's basement, in the direction where the lake was located, the direction of the tremors.

A grating sound reached their ears, as if something metallic was scraping. Rhythmic like the tremors, it sounded almost like robotic limbs moving.

The wizards' eyes widened. Something was wrong… _very wrong_.

"Outside!" shouted a voice. Everyone looked to one of the members who had rushed in, his frantic breathing signifying he had been running. "Something _huge_ is coming at us!"

Without a second of hesitation, they rushed outside, wanting to see what the member was talking about.

Oh, they found it alright…

They couldn't believe what was happening in front of them.

Walking on metallic legs shaped like an arachnid's, supported by an immense slab of earth with jagged edges everywhere, was a building. A _building_ was walking towards them, and they knew _exactly_ who it was.

It was Phantom Lord, and they brought the war to Fairy Tail's soil.

The building was obviously their headquarters, considering the size and the impressive architecture it held. It lumbered towards them, the earthquakes it caused breaking the meager spirit of the Fairy Tail guild. It then stopped, a little over a hundred meters away, and sunk on its legs, leveling the guild hall over the town slightly.

"W-Why? Why go to such _extremes_ to attack _us_?!" Erza voiced out, her eyes wide with shock and not a small amount of fear. She was shaking, unable to comprehend the cruelty of a _legal_ guild.

She was not the only one, for everyone in the guild was asking themselves the _exact_ same question.

 _Why?_

"How the hell are we supposed to fight that?!" shouted Gray.

"These _bastards_! _How dare they?!"_ growled Mirajane, her magic flaring out.

Their eyes locked on a descending wall of the guild, watching it as it disappeared completely. The sound of metal grinding reached their ears, and they looked at the contents of said compartment: a giant, rusty-brown cannon, slowly but surely extending towards them.

Their eyes grew ever wider.

 _"_ _ **Magical Convergent Cannon: Jupiter**_ _… engage,"_ spoke an ominous voice, amplified by the speakers in the arachnid guild.

The cannon began to charge, gathering immense amounts of magical energy at the tip. An orb of dark, transparent energy appeared, growing without restraint, until it stopped when it was roughly as large as the guild itself.

Suddenly, it began to shrink, compressing all the power gathered into a sphere barely larger than the cannon's tip. It was ready to fire.

" _Oh, God,"_ whispered Lisanna, covering her mouth with her hands, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Mirajane, noticing this, grew ever angrier.

"Everyone, get out of here!" screamed Erza, turning around and gathering the attention of all the members. "I'll hold it off!"

She glowed yellow as she did that, calling forth her most defensive armor: The **Adamantine Armor**.

 _"_ _FIRE! KILL THEM ALL!"_

And so it did. All the energy gathered in the cannon was unleashed at the members of Fairy Tail, who were rooted in their positions, unable to move a single muscle.

It was over for them. They were going to die in such a horrible way, without any care given to the citizens of Magnolia who were going to be caught in the crossfire.

 _They never noticed a flash of flames appearing behind them all…_

Erza stepped forward, gripping the shield-blades tightly in front of her, ready to summon the absolute defense of her armor.

Through the crack of the armor, she noticed a man taller than her, with spiky pink hair, dressed in a crimson overcoat with golden flames, and with an enormous black sword strapped onto his back. He stood in front of her, his stance apparently relaxed.

It scared her that he would brave a **Jupiter** blast head-on, so she couldn't hold back her warning, "Get away from there!"

But she was ignored.

The man, almost lazily, grabbed the oversized hilt of the sword, pulling it out and brandishing the magnificent blade, producing a metallic ringing that echoed into the air. The blast was almost upon them.

 _What happened next would forever live in the minds of the Fairy Tail wizards…_

Faster than anyone could see, the man lifted his sword and slashed the air in front of him, unleashing a colossal wave of what seemed to be blue-green energy that collided mightily with the cannon's blast.

The ground trembled and groaned, the quakes so powerful everyone except the pink-haired man lost their balance and fell to the ground. Gale-force winds collided against everyone, making them shield their eyes with their hands from the dust and debris.

However, just as quickly as the quaking began, it disappeared. Nobody dared to open their eyes, for they feared opening them to the absolute darkness of death.

The first one who did, though, was Erza, closely followed by Mirajane.

" _W-What…?"_

That was all they could say, for the sight that greeted them was nothing like the one they expected.

The lake was splashing about, moving erratically within its confines. A good amount of the shrubbery that bordered the lake was gone, replaced by upturned earth. Hell, even a couple of tiles of the homes near the lake were blown off. But, there was one thing they could agree on.

The town was in one piece. The destruction a blast as powerful as the **Jupiter** would have caused was nonexistent. Even the broken guild hall was still standing.

They were _alive_ …

"I expected more of the **Jupiter** ," spoke an unfamiliar voice from before them, followed by the clicking of a sheathed sword. They turned, and their eyes widened in disbelief.

The once majestic, yet ominous arachnid guild hall had an immense hole in the center, shaped like a slash wound. It traversed through the entire building, for the blue sky could be seen from within. Smoke emerged from the hole, floating up into the sky uninterrupted.

The **Jupiter Cannon** , though, was _nowhere_ to be seen. It was destroyed, much like the room that held it.

This strange man had _saved_ them.

The two S-Class Mages were vocal in their relief, something that prompted the rest of the guild to open their eyes. Whoops of celebration rung, thanking the stranger for rescuing them from their impending doom. Some even approached him to give their thanks in a much more personal manner.

 _"_ _To think the Magic Council would send of the Seven Warlocks of Ishgar to stop this,"_ spoke the amplified voice. It stopped everyone dead in their tracks. _"I'm flattered…"_

The man turned halfway towards the Fairy Tail mages, revealing his handsome face and slit onyx eyes. The effect was immediate; more than a few of the women began blushing brightly, the most prominent of them being Mirajane.

It all stopped, though, when an ocean of magical pressure descended upon them. It was the vilest magical energy they felt in their lives, and it quickly returned the fear they felt moments ago tenfold.

The temperature spiked drastically, to a point that they felt that their skin would spontaneously combust. All of them fell to their knees, unable to handle the pressure. Most had already fallen unconscious, with foam emerging from their mouths.

" _Don't interfere_ ," spoke the pink-haired man, directing himself to the only conscious people in the vicinity: Erza, Mirajane, and Gray.

Moments after speaking, the pressure disappeared, granting them breath they never knew they lost, and the ability to stand, albeit shakily. The man, however, had disappeared in a burst of flames.

"W-Who w-was that?" asked Gray, unable to prevent his body from shivering. "H-His magic power was m-monstrous!"

"Not even Master M-Makarov has that much power… _It's unreal_!" stuttered Erza, returning her armor to her pocket dimension. "And it f-felt so d-dark and f-frightening…"

Mirajane remained silent, breathing heavily while trying to recover from the shaking. She slowly walked towards her unconscious sister, kneeling beside her when she arrived. She proceeded to cradle her head.

"Whoever that guy was, I'm thankful he isn't against us," she spoke, earning their attention. "We wouldn't stand a chance against him from what we've seen. I mean, for him to put a hole _that big_ with just _one slash_ tells us a lot of his power."

"But _who_ was he? _Where_ did he come from?" asked Gray impatiently.

"He was one of the Seven Warlocks of Ishgar," spoke an elderly voice, a voice they recognized and longed to hear that very moment. They whirled in the direction of the voice, their eyes landing on the tiny figure of their Guild Master, Makarov Dreyar.

"Master!"

Relief flooded them again. They were happy that their master was back, and he looked far better than when they retreated from Oak Town. He was wearing his white coat emblazoned with the Wizard Saint emblem, a white shirt, and khaki shorts. He seemed ready for battle.

His expression, though, was grim and wary, and showed a sliver of fear. They were shaken because of that.

"Seven Warlocks? What is that, Master?" asked Mirajane, caressing Lisanna's face tenderly.

"They are the seven most powerful dark wizards in all of the continent. In fact, their individual power is so great that only the top four Wizard Saints can hope to stand a chance against them."

 _That_ statement earned a wide-eyed look of fear from his three children.

"They're _t-that_ p-powerful?" asked Erza, not believing the fact that there was someone stronger than the Wizard Saints.

"H-How, though…?" began Mirajane, tightening her hold on her sister. "I mean, that guy did not look older than 23. How the hell is he one of them, Master?"

"Remember, Mira my dear, the world is a big place. There are wizards out there a little older than you, that are far stronger than me. _He_ is one of them."

"Do you know who he is, Gramps?" asked Gray.

"I do. That is Warlock Natsu Dragneel, the "Black Salamander", the most powerful of the Seven Warlocks."

They could only gape at the old man, unable to produce even a syllable of speech. He looked so young, yet was _the_ strongest of the Seven Warlocks? _How was that possible_?!

 _'_ _And why are my demon souls so excited? I can feel their excitement flowing through me, almost as if they're hungry for_ his _power. Why?!'_ thought Mirajane, fighting off the small blush that overtook her cheeks.

"Mira, dear, are you alright?" asked Makarov, earning her attention. "Your magic power is fluctuating."

"I'm fine, Master. Thank you."

He nodded, not entirely convinced.

Suddenly, an explosion ensued from the top of Phantom Lord's headquarters. A battle had already begun.

As they worked on getting all of the unconscious members back into the broken guild hall, one thought coursed through the young wizards' minds.

 _'_ _Why did a_ dark wizard _save us from Phantom?'_

…

* * *

 ** _And that's chapter two!_**

 ** _I hope you enjoyed it guys. It will only get more exciting from this point onward (at least, I hope)._**

 ** _When it comes to the Magic Council, I decided to make the Chairman, the 2nd Seat and the 3rd Seat like the 3 Admirals from One Piece (no, they won't have the same abilities). For the governing body in charge of all magical affairs, the canon Magic Council is pretty damn pathetic, so I made them strong in this fic! How would they be able to keep the Warlocks in line if that weren't the case?_**

 ** _Anyways, I have a question. Would you like me to post the Disclaimer only at the top, and any Author's Notes at the bottom? Or would you like Notes both at the top and the bottom? Please let me know in your reviews._**

 ** _Next update will be Natsu Draggio (this time, I'm being serious!)_**

 ** _Anyways, thank you for reading!_**

 ** _Please! Review, review, review!_**

 ** _Until next time! Ciao!_**


	3. Favors Done

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail, its rights or any of its characters, spells, locations, etc. These belong to the one and only Hiro Mashima. I only own my OCs, my spells, etc. Any resemblance to anything or anyone, either living or dead, is purely coincidental. Also, this work is purely meant for non-profit entertainment.**

Hello " "= **Dialogue**

 **Requip " "= Spells, Magical Item Names and Non-Human Speech  
**

 _What? ' ' =_ **Thoughts**

 _ **Oh dear... '**_ **'** **= Non-human Thoughts**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Favors Done**

Natsu appeared in a burst of flames within the section he destroyed of the arachnid guild hall. He looked around, surveying the damage he dealt.

While he was impressed, he was sure the building would have been destroyed had his slash not collided with the **Jupiter** blast.

He stretched his senses out, quickly detecting the larger energy of Jose Porla amongst the underlings that populated the arachnid headquarters.

His enhanced hearing caught a sliver of sound from behind him. He locked onto the source, detecting an uneven stretch of debris strewn on the ground. After a few seconds, the pile burst upwards, revealing a rather injured young man.

He looked like a ninja, with his red-orange gi with similarly colored fur around the neck, the tight, black undershirt, and fishnet sides and forearms. He wore black pants and boots, and had a pitch-black katana attached to his waist.

The most prominent features, though, were the hair, colored both black and white, styled in a Japanese knot on the back of his head, and the incomplete strip that crossed his face above his nose.

"W-What the _h-hell_ was that?" he whispered to himself, apparently not noticing the Warlock's presence.

Natsu did not speak, but he moved. Within a second, he was in front of the injured ninja-like wizard. The man didn't even have a chance to turn, when Natsu backhanded him.

A sickening crack echoed throughout the hollowed room, followed by a dull thud.

Totomaru of the Conflagration, S-Class Mage of Phantom Lord, was no more. His neck was snapped with that single strike, and it would soon be consumed by the flames he would use to level the guild completely.

Natsu looked at the blank eyes that stared at what was left of the ceiling, feeling the magic within the man disperse completely. He felt nothing for the deceased wizard. Had he allowed him to live, he would obviously try to interfere with his assignment.

 _That_ … was _unacceptable_.

He turned towards the ceiling, feeling the energy of his target move to a location right above him. He grabbed his sword's hilt, brandishing it and preparing another attack.

He unleashed it within the next few seconds. The energy wave, while large, was nowhere near as powerful as the one he used to destroy the **Jupiter** blast and the cannon.

He watched it wreck the guild hall even further, passing floor after floor until it reached the top floor's ceiling.

He snapped his fingers, terminating the wave's eviscerating journey in an explosion that destroyed most of the ceiling. All debris that fell upon him was dismantled with the sheer amount of magic power he began to release.

He promptly disappeared, appearing just seconds later on the top floor. He surveyed the destruction he caused once more, waiting for the dust to clear.

Jose's magical signature was right behind him.

"Well. Not only do they send a _Warlock_ after me, but they send the great _"Black Salamander"_? The fools at the Council really wanted to outdo themselves this time, eh?"

Natsu turned around, but remained silent, watching as the silhouette behind the dust that was Jose Porla manifest completely before him.

The man was tall, but not as much as Natsu. His visage bore the signs of his slightly advanced age, yet his dark reddish hair didn't. He wore a very militaristic outfit, blue-colored coat with golden striped adorning it closed to the right of his chest, a belt snugly fitted to his waist, a brown cape covering his left arm, and black military boots. His Wizard Saint medallion hung right below his neck.

"Not speaking, Black Salamander? Not attacking me? Why is that?"

"You very well know, Jose Porla, why I have come. My silence is your final opportunity to surrender voluntarily."

"Tempting offer. I am flattered that you're offering it to little old me, when most would be burned to a crisp by now."

"Simple protocol dictated by my parameters. Had it been left to my jurisdiction, this entire guild would be nothing more than ash right now."

" _Oh…?_ Care to… _prove_ that?"

Just after he said that, there was a disturbance in the air. Natsu's senses warned him of another presence amongst them. It was spread throughout the entire room, but he could feel the magical signature.

Suddenly, a man appeared behind Natsu. He was much larger than him, with a large green bowler hat and a long green high-collared cloak. He had a striped cloth hanging around his neck that extended all the way to his shins, and a necklace made of red crosses and a skull. He was blindfolded.

Natsu looked back at the man, unsurprised at the ambush. The man extended his hands towards him.

"Do it, Aria!" yelled Jose.

 **"** **Metsu!"**

Just as a yellow light appeared under Natsu, he disappeared. An instant later, he was behind the man, his closed fist cocked behind him, lit aflame.

He punched, piercing right through the large man's back, spraying blood that instantly evaporated when it got close the pink-haired swordsman.

Aria screamed in torturous pain, but was silenced when Natsu flipped forward and landed a devastating axe kick that snapped his neck and crushed his skull. The new corpse rocketed down towards the room that once held the **Jupiter** , the recurring crash so mighty it shook the guild hall.

Just as Natsu was about to land, a large, purple beam of energy flew towards him. With his flame-enveloped fist, he slapped it away as if it were nothing. It collided with a portion of the large hall, blowing away a portion of its wall in a decently-sized explosion.

"Very well. Your life is forfeit, Jose Porla."

"I don't think so!" he shouted, extending his right hand towards him. "I will show you that I am superior!"

 _'_ _Deluded much?'_

 **"** **Dead Wave!"**

Forming a much larger orb of the same purple energy, Jose launched it with reckless abandon at the pink-haired Warlock, not caring that it was demolishing an even larger portion of his headquarters.

It zoomed towards him, yet he stood still, waiting for it to strike true. While the power possessed by that attack would render most mages below Saint level fearful, he was unaffected.

Just a moment before it hit, he flared his magic, causing a fiery aura to appear around him that redirected the beam as it swallowed him whole. A much larger explosion ensued due to the attack, revealing more of the open sky.

"Makarov Dreyar ranks fifth among the Wizard Saints, and he stands no chance against me. You rank sixth. How is that superior?" spoke Natsu, as the beam tapered off, revealing him completely unharmed. His fiery aura flickered into nonexistence.

"Makarov Dreyar is a weak-hearted, idealistic fool! He doesn't have the mindset to fight _real_ battles!"

By then, Jose's eyes were completely black, no sign present of the sclera or the pupil. He was being consumed by his own sadistic nature, and, coupled with the pulsing rage he felt, made him a slightly more dangerous opponent in Natsu's eyes.

"And what mindset do you operate under? Overestimation of your own abilities, coupled with _delusion_?"

"I'll show you _delusion_!" shouted Jose, raising both of his hands high into the air. He roared into the sky, releasing an incredible amount of magical power. It manifested in a swirling vortex of purple energy that slowly climbed its way into the ceiling above, tearing right through it seconds later.

The entire guild hall shook monumentally, small rocks rising and disintegrating as his energy continued rising steadily. Clouds began to gather in the sky, drowning the town from all light.

Natsu, while unaffected by the sheer amount of magical energy released, was slightly impressed by it. This amount of energy would surely send others fleeing in terror. It would bring forth dreadful visions to their minds, especially since it was darkening in quality.

He flared his magic once again, letting his blazing aura surround him, though on a much lesser scale than the aura surrounding Jose. It was all the magic he would need to defeat the man, whose rage had pushed him beyond all restraint. _That_ meant he would be more reckless in the usage of his magic, and he would tire faster.

His magical output did not need to be as great anymore.

With a cry of rage, Jose lunged towards Natsu, looking to plough him with a powerful punch. The pink-haired swordsman noticed the gathering bolts of purple energy behind the crazed man.

He merely raised his hand, calling forth orbs of fire that rocketed towards those bolts, causing explosions when they clashed. He then blocked the punch with his palm, and gripped it tightly.

Twisting around, he lifted Jose over his head, and plunged him onto the floor, sending the enraged man crashing a couple floors below.

The guild hall was shaking worse than before, especially with the metallic legs taking most of the shock produced by the dueling powerhouses.

His senses picked up Jose rocketing towards him from underneath his very feet. He raised his eyebrow, when he noticed a greater amount of the purple bolts erupting from the floor.

He jumped into the air, the floor he stood over collapsing just a second later. Jose emerged, screaming like a madman. He swiped his hand towards Natsu, causing the bolts to home on him like heat seekers.

Natsu responded with just that… a swipe of his hand. A considerable amount of flames emerged from it, cancelling out all the encroaching projectiles in a series of explosions.

Jose, though, had another attack ready.

 **"** **Dead Wave!"**

Summoning an exponentially larger orb than before, he unleashed it in a colossal beam of energy that swallowed Natsu whole. The sheer power of the beam blew the entirety of the roof off, leaving the hall with the sky as its ceiling.

Jose didn't stop there, however. He threw both his arms to his sides, calling forth an even larger amount of purple energy bolts that he fired when he shot both his hands forward.

They homed on their apparent target, crashing and exploding in a cacophony of sound and magic.

"Weak."

Jose's eyes widened. He barely managed to turn, when a shatteringly powerful blow sent him skyward. He released a guttural cry of pain as he flipped in the air, climbing higher and higher into the clouds.

It stopped abruptly, though, when Natsu appeared right above him, his left fist lit aflame.

He struck, sending the master of Phantom Lord rocketing downwards once again.

" _I… am… NOT… WEAK!"_ Jose roared, turning himself to where his feet were facing the ground. He landed harshly, cracking the entirety of the top floor, picking up large amounts of dust and debris. He raised his hands up, his palms facing the sky, the maniacal gleam in his eyes worsening. The blood coursing down his face, originating from his head and mouth, enhanced his insane look.

 **"** **SHADE TITAN!"**

The area went black for a few seconds as an immense ghostly figure began to coalesce above the Phantom Lord Master. It was cloaked in a dark robe that seemingly covered the entirety of its features, only allowing the haunting, red glow of its "eyes" to remain visible.

The apparition glared at Natsu, extending its relatively thin arms, calling forth two massive orbs of purple energy. The pink-haired man noticed Jose doing the same thing.

The simultaneously fired their devastating attacks, the ghostly giant fusing its two orbs into an even larger one before launch. Both rocketed towards him, though mere seconds before they reached him, he reached behind his back with his right hand and unsheathed his magnificent sword.

 _'_ _So, he brings out his most powerful spell, yet only creates one titan. Color me surprised,'_ Natsu mused, allowing a ghost of a smirk to appear on his visage. Faster than the blink of an eye, he slashed the air, sending a massive wave of blue-green energy towards the two beams.

There was a mighty collision, stray arcs of energy branching out and striking the ground and water in the vicinity. Dust and waves emerged as a result, littering the area with more destruction.

 **"** **Fire Dragon's Iron Fist."**

He mumbled the spell, causing his already flaming left fist to become a raging conflagration equal in size to the ghostly titan before him. That ghost of a smirk was still present in his handsome visage, and it widened ever so slightly as flames appeared at his feet.

Suddenly, he rocketed down towards the towards the clash, throwing his fist forward, along with the entire conflagration.

The ensuing blast was mightier than the one that occurred between his energy wave and the **Jupiter** cannon. The winds were so harsh, even the cliffs surrounding the lake could not fully withstand their destructive might. Water collided against the lakeshore around the arachnid guild, splashing copious amounts of water on the land.

The Phantom Lord Headquarters' legs groaned loudly, barely managing to take the pressure and heat of such a concentrated explosion. They began to take a red-orange color, causing the water surrounding them to vaporize.

The ghostly titan was completely overwhelmed, banished from the plane of existence by the ground-shaking explosion.

Jose Porla stood there, covering his face from the intense heat. His eyes were squinted, attempting to find his opponent amongst the sea of fire that illuminated the sky.

No sight of the Black Salamander was found by him.

He extended his senses, trying to pinpoint his signature in the _still_ blazing inferno. He continued doing it for a couple of seconds, almost desperately trying to find at _least_ a hint of his presence.

 _Nothing_ …

That didn't last long, though. His eyes widened as Natsu emerged from the blast, unscathed, rocketing toward him with his enormous sword held in front of him, ready to strike.

The pink-haired swordsman began to spin, descending towards the stunned Wizard Saint at breakneck speeds.

A metallic sound echoed throughout the vicinity, and Natsu landed on what was left of the top floor, facing the direction he just came from. He held his sword loosely, the blade pointing away from his body and the sharp edge facing backwards. The conflagration above him began to dissipate, taking the oppressive heat along with it.

The tremors that wracked the guild hall ceased, bringing forth an eerie silence that was periodically punctured by falling debris.

Slowly, ceremoniously, he sheathed his forth on his back straps, extending his left hand outward as he did so. His open palm was facing forward, almost as if he was expecting something to fall in that very spot.

 _And it did…_

The moment his sword clicked within its "sheath", a somewhat round, fleshy object struck his open palm, covering the rest of his hand in hair. He quickly gripped the fleshy object, and looked.

The severed head of Jose Porla greeted him, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide and dull. Droplets of blood fell on the floor, forming a small puddle underneath.

Two sequential thuds echoed behind him, though he ignored them, for he knew it was the headless body that had touched the ground.

Jose Porla was dead, beheaded with extreme skill and precision. The kill was so well done that the sword did not have a single bloody stain marring its surface.

 _'_ _The power of delusion and overestimation… such is the reward.'_

He snapped his gaze away from the severed head, his enhanced hearing alerting him to the deplorable state that the walking guild found itself in. The strain it took due to the battle had overwhelmed it, pushing its integrity to its absolute limit.

It wouldn't be long before it collapsed into the lake.

 _'_ _Why not accelerate it?'_ he thought, lifting his foot, summoning the scorching flames that eradicated so many lives before today, and would surely eradicate more in the future.

 **"** **Fire Dragon's Claw."**

He brought down his foot, and it all went white…

…

Six pairs of eyes were as wide as they could go.

Six minds were befuddled to such an extreme that producing a single syllable of speech was an impossibility.

Six bodies were frozen still, preventing any sliver of motion.

Divided equally, these six enemies were so stunned, they even forgot of the reasons they were there in the first place.

It was all because of the colossal amounts of magical energy they were sensing within the Phantom Lord building.

 _It was incomprehensible!_

Never had they imagined that they would witness a battle on such a scale at this point in their lives!

"M-My _God_!" breathed Erza, holding a simple broadsword loosely in her right hand. Her breathing was quick, ragged, and short. Her chest heaved greatly, something shared amongst her comrades and enemies. Her knees were weakening due to the lack of proper oxygen.

Explosions ransacked the arachnid headquarters, shooting an increasing amount of debris into the sky and the water below. The ground around them shook ferociously, barely allowing them to maintain their balance.

If the aftereffects of the clash were this drastic at the distance they were located, she could scarcely imagine the _actual_ battle!

"W-What the _Hell_ is going on?!" spoke the Dragon Slayer of Phantom, and her opponent, Gajeel Redfox.

The young, muscular man was slightly taller than her, standing at six feet flat. He looked positively brutish, with small metal studs acting as his eyebrows, a sextet serving as his earrings, and another sextet of them on either side of his nose. His eyes were slit, and red, enhancing his menacing visage.

His pitch-black hair was spiky, and reached down to his mid-back. He wore a sleeveless black tunic with studded edges around his arms and neck, and had a wing-like accessory attached to his right shoulder. He wore beige pants, black studded boots, and black fingerless, yet similarly studded gloves.

" _Who_ could possess such power to push our _master_ in such a way?" spoke another member of the Phantom Lord trio, and Gray's opponent, Juvia Lockser.

She, like almost all of the women in Fairy Tail, was a young woman of incredible beauty, with a slender, yet voluptuous figure that easily rivaled the best of them. She had long blue hair tightly curled at the base, dark blue eyes, and rather pale skin.

She wore a long navy blue coat with a fur shawl covering her shoulders, a Russian Cossack hat, and thigh-length brown boots.

Another series of explosions ensued, smaller than the ones before, yet still powerful enough to induce tremors.

Suddenly, a body rocketed towards the sky, before being thrown back down towards the arachnid guild hall after the appearance of another body.

" _H-Holy s-shit_ …!" breathed out Gray. "I barely saw him move! Is it that Natsu Dragneel gramps was talking about?"

"It is," spoke Master Makarov, drawing their attention. Due to the structurally compromised condition of the guild hall, and the tremors that were occurring due to the battle, the four conscious members of Fairy Tail decided to move their unconscious comrades towards Fairy Hills, the female dormitory, near the outskirts of town.

They were finished quickly due to their combined efforts, something that relieved them.

When they returned to the guild hall, the Phantom trio arrived. At first, a scuffle seemed inevitable, especially since they were at war, but the explosions put any thoughts of fighting out of their minds.

"Master?" prompted Mirajane.

"If you focus your senses, children, the one currently in the air is Natsu Dragneel. You'll also notice that he's winning against Jose."

" _C'est impossible_! Nobody can win against our master, _monsieur_ Makarov!" spoke the final member of the Phantom trio, a strange-looking man named Sol.

He was around average height, had green hair that pointed upwards, a thin, pointy mustache of the same color, and a monocle that covered his right eye. He wore a brown suit with a ragged collar over a white shirt and a red tie, brown pants and black shoes. He completed his outfit with a short cape that was connected to both of his elbows.

Makarov looked towards Sol, wanting to refute the statement, when a sudden, large spike of magical energy reached his senses.

His eyes snapped towards the arachnid guild, and they widened slightly when he saw an immense ghostly figure coalesce just above it. It was the most powerful spell he knew from Jose Porla, **Shade Titan**. It summoned two orbs of purple energy, fusing them together into one much larger orb.

It fired, shortly followed by another beam of equal size that originated from the guild hall.

His opponent still floated in the air, but he could sense no fluctuation of his magical energy. He was stock still, until a glint of light hit his vision.

Natsu was unsheathing his sword.

His eyes widened when an immense wave of blue-green energy emerged from the sword after he slashed at the air in front of him. Both attacks collided mightily, causing gale-force winds and forcing the septet to cover their eyes to avoid injury.

The ground began to shake again, and water struck at the lakeshore, splashing most of the drying ground. Pieces of the cliffs that bordered the lake slid down into the water, loudly breaking the usually calm surface.

Cries of surprise rang from the young sextet, caught off guard by the sudden quake.

Everyone managed to keep their balance during the ensuing tremors, though it was done with great difficulty. Erza stabbed her sword into the ground, while Gray anchored Mirajane and himself with large amounts of ice. Sol used his **Earth Magic** bring forth protrusions that tightly wrapped around himself and Juvia, while Gajeel used his **Iron Dragon Slayer Magic** to create sharp blades under his feet that sank quite deeply into the earth.

Makarov stood stock still, his short stature and light weight unwavering in the face of the winds. His feet were dug into the ground, and he held a single hand in front of his face to block off the dust that flew towards them.

The temperature skyrocketed. The rise was so sudden, that it caught the septet completely by surprise. Water from the lake's surface began to evaporate at a much faster pace, accompanied by the sweat that had gathered on their bodies.

Juvia was the most affected out of the septet. Her breathing was heavier than everyone else, and her knees were steadily weakening.

Another explosion rocked the skies above the lake, this time involving an immense amount of fire. The colliding energies coalesced into a sea of red-orange that surpassed Jose's **Shade Titan** in size.

The ground trembled even more under the might of the blast, the cliffs bordering the lake groaning and giving in, dropping large chunks of their structures into the evaporating waters below. The dust clouds were larger; the winds were harsher. The heat was so great, that Gray was forced to summon a large wall of ice around everyone to block the debris while making the temperature a tad more tolerable.

It barely worked in the temperature department, for the ice was rapidly undergoing sublimation, forcing Gray to expend more of his magic to maintain the wall.

The magical collision subsided, and the heat began to drop drastically as a strong, cool breeze began to blow. The immense amount of energy expended in the attacks was nigh nonexistent now, and there were no sounds that indicated further continuation of the altercation.

"I-Is it over?" asked Gray, as he willed his ice wall to disappear. He fell to one knee, and would've fallen further had Erza not gripped his arm and lifted him.

"Gray, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Erza, thanks," he replied, nodding gratefully towards her. She nodded in return.

"It seems to be over. Can you sense anything, master?" asked Mirajane, taking her feet out of the ground. Makarov only shook his head, looking at the arachnid guild hall critically.

"Screw this, I'm going back there," growled Gajeel, releasing his blades and rushing towards the shore.

"Gajeel, wait!" shouted Juvia, stumbling forward as Sol willed his earthen protrusions to disappear.

" _Oui_ , _monsieur_ Gajeel! _Patienter_!" Sol joined his fellow Element Four in the clamor. It was for naught, though, as Gajeel had already jumped towards the collapsing guild.

A bright light shone, originating from the guild hall, accompanied by another large surge of magical energy. Gajeel, mid-jump, had to shield his eyes, or suffer blindness. The predicament was shared by the grounded sextet.

Then, the guild hall exploded unexpectedly, showering the area with heat and debris once again. Gajeel could only think one thing as the powerful shockwave approached him.

 _'_ _Oh shit…'_

He rocketed backwards, feeling the air leave his lungs when the shockwave struck him. Crashing mightily against Fairy Tail's guild hall, he caused the already severely weakened building to finally collapse, burying him in rubble.

"GAJEEL!" screamed Juvia, as the others looked on in shock.

"SHIT! Not again!" shouted Gray, forcing a large amount of his dwindling magical reserves into creating another ice wall. However, before he could go through with his intentions, Makarov stepped forward, using his **Giant Magic** to enlarge his arms to a point where he could shield everyone from the blast.

He wanted to concern himself with the precious, age-old headquarters of his beloved guild, but the children mattered more. The building could easily be rebuilt and, thankfully, they had more than enough money for the job.

He grimaced as he felt the heat slam against his enlarged arms. It felt as if they were about to spontaneously combust, and he was honestly expecting that, but it never came. There was only the overwhelming heat that slowly singed his skin.

Sol grabbed Juvia, preventing her from rushing to Gajeel's aid, and summoned a wall of earth that surrounded them. Cool as it was, they still felt the incredible heat wave. Gray, summoning his icy aura, placed his hands on Makarov, infusing the cooling sensation into the elder man's body.

Grateful as he was, Makarov wanted to stop Gray. But all his children were stubborn, Gray amongst the top of the list, and he knew that telling him to stop would only spur him to push more magic.

The raging fires that hovered closer to the lake subsided after a few seconds, though the steam produced had yet to clear. The heated gale gave way to a cool breeze, allowing the sextet a breath of fresh air that they needed.

Juvia extracted herself from Sol's arms, and rushed to the fallen Fairy Tail guild hall, removing debris in search of her friend. She didn't need to do it, though, for Gajeel emerged from the debris, sporting a couple of small injuries.

"Gajeel, you're okay!" exclaimed Juvia, embracing her friend.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Rainy," he spoke, removing himself from her arms and walking towards the lakeshore, an act she emulated. "But the guild sure as hell isn't. We gotta get back there and search for any survivors!"

"That won't be necessary."

Gajeel froze when he heard that deep voice, his eyes slightly wide, and his nostrils flaring as he smelled a scent similar to his own. Strained gasps entered his sensitive hearing, as well as the sound of heavier-than-normal breathing.

He turned his head slowly, the owner of the voice coming into view. There, a few meters away from him, stood the one that completely wrecked his guild and seemingly defeated his master.

Gajeel recoiled slightly. The aura the man exuded was overwhelming, and his slit onyx eyes screamed with untold power. His visage was a haze of impassivity, the embodiment of stoical. His stance was relaxed, but ready for battle. His arms were on his sides, but his fists were almost clenched. The enormous sword on his back seemed so far away from his reach, yet so close he felt he could pull it out in just a blink of an eye. He couldn't help but be intimidated by the man's mere presence.

He couldn't believe it! Here he was, a Dragon Slayer, one of the most powerful kind of mages in the world, with magic capable of killing the mightiest creatures on Earth Land, and he was cowering before a man!

 _It was preposterous!_

He felt a soft hand gripping his shirt tightly, snapping him out of his reverie. He turned, only to meet with a sight he wanted to vanquish instantly. Juvia, the only person he could truly call a friend in Phantom Lord, was cowering behind him, shivering in abject fear, her eyes wide and unblinking. He seethed, his anger showcasing itself in a soft growl. He never wanted to see his dear friend like that _ever_ again.

He looked over at Sol, who was pretty much in the same situation as he was, only worse. He was frozen, unable to move a single muscle. A thin sheen of sweat was becoming visible on his visage, with beads running down sporadically.

With the Fairy Tail trio, the situation was pretty much the same. Gray, Erza, and Mirajane were shivering, overwhelmed by the presence the man exuded.

In Mirajane's case, however, there were a couple more discreet factors for her shivering. She could feel blood trickling up to her face, manifesting in her cheeks as a soft pink hue.

 _'_ _Again?!'_ she thought. _'Why is this happening?!'_

Makarov, as opposed to the young sextet, was impassive, his face serious, his eyes set on the powerful Warlock.

"Warlock Dragneel…" he spoke softly, though it echoed throughout the vicinity as if spoken loudly.

"Saint Dreyar," spoke Natsu, his eyes locking on the elder wizard. A tense silence followed, broken frequently by the sounds coming from within Magnolia and the waves crashing on the lakeshore. A breeze blew by, causing his overcoat to flow along, something emulated to a lesser extent by Makarov's Wizard Saint coat.

Everyone present watched as the two titans of magical prowess seemingly sized each other up. So palpable was the tension, that even their breath was taken away, squeezed out of their lungs for the time being.

"Why have you interfered with our conflict?" asked Makarov. Silence reigned once more, as the pink-haired swordsman seemed to contemplate his answer.

"Council directives, Saint Dreyar."

Makarov's eyes widened drastically.

The Magic Council _ordered_ his interference? Why would they go to such _extremes_ and send _the strongest_ of the _Seven Warlocks of Ishgar_ to stop the war?

 _What were they thinking_?!

Any _one_ of the Seven Warlocks would be more than enough to do the job! But the infamous "Black Salamander"?

Something was going on here… Makarov knew it.

"Gray Fullbuster," spoke Natsu, snapping everyone out of their reverie, allowing the younger sextet a breath they sorely needed. He lifted his gaze, and locked it with the shocked eyes of the Fairy Tail wizard.

"H-Huh…?"

"The Frozen Empress sends her regards…"

"W-Wha…?" was all the ice mage could say, too wrapped up in the fact that the _Black Salamander_ was speaking _directly_ to _him_. He didn't even _know_ the guy, much less the _Frozen Empress_!

What the _hell_ was going on?

Makarov's eyes widened drastically, recognition flaring within him. Everyone else was clouded with confusion.

Who the _hell_ was this Frozen Empress, and why was she sending her regards to _Gray Fullbuster_ of _all_ people? Erza and Mirajane were wracking their brains, trying to think of _someone_ remotely related to their exhibitionist friend.

Natsu turned around, intent on leaving. His prolonged presence served no purpose here, for his job was done. Just as he took a few steps, though, Makarov spoke up.

"Warlock Dragneel!"

Natsu stopped dead in his tracks, and turned his face halfway to face the wizened master of Fairy Tail.

"Where's Jose Porla?"

Oh, how he regretted asking the question a mere instant after he finished. Deep in his gut, he already knew the answer to that question. However, dreading as he was, he _needed_ the confirmation.

" _Dead_ …" A single whispered word was all Natsu spoke, yet it carried through like a clamor.

As the flames consumed him, gasps of abject horror filled the vicinity.

…

* * *

 _ **Hello, fellow readers and authors!**_

 _ **Chapter three here for the Ruthless Seven! I finally had some time off to finish the chapter! I hope you enjoyed it.**_

 _ **To answer some questions posed to me by a couple readers about the collective, the lucky ladies are already set for this fic. I will post no poll, nor will I take requests. As much as it surprises me to say this, no, Erza won't be in it. She's already paired with Natsu in Natsu Draggio. So, that means no Wendy or Ultear, either. As much as I enjoy those pairings, I'm trying to spread love to other ladies on this archive. Do not despair, there will be no Jerza, or RoWen.**_

 _ **I won't reveal them in an AN. As you read on, it will become readily apparent who is going to be in it, and who is not. Yes, the summary has Ur and Ikaruga, so they are in it. 2 of 9.**_

 _ **Anyways, thank you for reading!**_

 _ **Please! Review, review, review!**_

 _ **Until next time! Ciao!**_


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